


Children of the Night

by mrsmischief



Category: Only Lovers Left Alive (2013)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Music, Musicians, Romance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:44:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmischief/pseuds/mrsmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam, a 400-year-old vampire and Ida, a 20-something human (or "zombie") end up working together on his music project. The two notice they share more than just music, and step by step get to know each other better. But how well?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

"Come on Adam, you never go out!" Ian's voice came as if from a distant to Adam. It was a noise he couldn't really escape, but he didn't care much for it, either. It was a like a bird's song in the morning, unimportant, sometimes annoying and sometimes pleasant. Right now? Just a background noise. And annoying.  
"I do go out," Adam muttered, focused on his fingers that fiddled with the guitar, getting it in tune. "Just not when you're here."

That was only half a lie. He never went out in the sense Ian meant, to have fun and party. But he did go _out_ , for a walk or a drive, or to visit the local hospital. Mostly it was the hospital. Adam hadn't been out having fun for years now. Almost sixty years, to be exact.

Had it really been that long? Already? It felt like yesterday to him.

Ian sighed, disappointed. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. He often tried to get Adam to go out, to hear the music and see the world out there. Maybe Ian was worried, or simply wanted to hang out. Either way, Adam didn't want it. He didn't need anything other than his music, his instruments and his supplies, and he had all that. He was just fine the way he was, and had no interest in seeing how the 'zombies' had destroyed something beautiful, again. Not with Ian, or with anyone else for that matter.

"Just listen to her music for a bit, at least?" Ian wasn't going to drop it, was he? Once again, Adam found himself wondering why Ian couldn't just do his job, take the money and leave. Why did he want to stay, why did he want to do all these things? Surely it couldn't have been because Adam was such much fun to be around.  
"Fine," Adam sighed and put down the guitar. It was a beautiful vintage Fender, and it was his newest treasure, fresh from wherever Ian got all this stuff. He sat down on the sofa, next to Ian who was already typing something on the laptop he had brought with him. Always already doing the next thing. He looked at Adam quickly, and even that small glance was so full of excitement and energy that Adam almost felt the life being drained out of him. Young people, young zombies, they were so full of energy, so eager to do anything and so unaware of the real things. They didn't know life, they didn't know death, anything. They just didn't know shit.

"Well?" Adam asked after a while of watching Ian type an email. Ian bounced back to life, remembering the music and in a matter of seconds the first sounds were playing from the laptop. It wasn't what Adam had been expecting, not at all. He had thought it would be some of the new wave rock stuff, the kind where the kids tried to copy the greatest musicians of the past few decades and failed miserably. But no, this wasn't like that.

 The singer, her voice was actually original. Something Adam hadn't heard in years, if ever: a little raspy, just a little bit, but also clear and cool and very melodic. She knew how to use it, too, which made the otherwise mediocre song a much more pleasant thing to listen to. The bass was a bit too heavy, yes, and there was too much going on in the song to give her voice the part it deserved, but still, it wasn't half bad. Adam nodded slowly, once, twice.

"So? What do you think?" Ian asked once the last note of the song died away. Adam drew in a slow breath, then reached for the laptop to click on the next song on the playlist.  
"I think I could listen to more of her music."

It took him four songs to make up his mind. Four songs, all there was on the EP, all there was for now. It wasn't until the last one that Adam admitted just how much he liked her voice. It was new, this feeling of excitement and inspiration he felt; like a remembrance of something that had been gone for a very long time. An echo of better days. The music she played wasn't anything out of ordinary, there was no great musical genius at work there, but her voice... It was lovely indeed.

"Let's go to that club, then," he said to Ian, a feeble attempt of a smile appearing on his lips at Ian's surprised expression.  
"Really?" he asked, clearly thinking he had misheard Adam. This was the first time he had ever actually managed to get Adam to even consider going out.  
"Really."

"Do you know her?" Adam asked in the car. He was the one driving, and was glad to have the chance to simply rest his eyes on the dark road. There wasn't much other traffic, hardly anyone at all, and during the drive to the club Adam was perhaps the calmest he had been all night. It was so relaxing, the flicker of lights and the continuity of the dark.  
"We've met a couple of times, yeah."  
"If it's possible, I'd like you to introduce us. I think I could use her voice on a project I'm working on."  
"Oh. Yeah, sure. Yeah."  
Adam felt Ian's eyes on him, but didn't turn to meet the dazed eyes of his passenger.  

The bar was full of people, drunk and barely old enough to be there. Every moment reminded Adam of exactly why he didn't go out anymore. What were you supposed to do there, especially if you didn't want to get wasted? He didn't drink alcohol in any other than very special situations, and last time anything like that had happened had been in 1868.

Adam pulled the sunglasses higher, to cover his eyes completely, thankful for the cover they gave him. Some people were still staring, suspicious but luckily too drunk to truly realise exactly who he was... If Ian kept his mouth shut, that was. He seemed to know everyone there, and couldn't understand why Adam didn't want anyone to know him. But Adam knew how well alcohol could loosen people's tongues...  Ian was too careful for that, hopefully. Adam didn't want attention, he didn't want the people there to know him - even when at least half of them were listening to music made by him. Yeah, he was kind of popular, at least in the underground sense. He hated it.

Then, after about twenty-five excruciatingly long minutes, the main lights dimmed and the spotlights came to light, directing everyone's attention to the small stage. She was standing there already, waiting. Even Adam hadn't noticed her appear there, she had been so quiet. She was wearing a black leather jacket and equally dark tight jeans, and her dark hair was messy. Not the way Adam's was, he noticed, but purposefully messy: she had done all she could to look like a rock star, and as a result had nearly completely hidden the more sensitive beauty she had in her. It was only visible when she began to sing, accompanied by two musicians playing the drums and the guitar. It was in her voice, that Adam had already noticed, but now he saw a similar beauty in the way she closed her eyelids, focused on the note she was singing, or smiled at the audience.

She had his attention, he had to admit. She was talented, she sounded even better live than on those recordings. If she just agreed, he could use that voice of hers in one or two of his songs. It would fit them perfectly, it had the right kind of sadness in it...

"You must be Adam," she said as Ian brought her to their table after the show had finished. She had a drink in her hand already, and she seemed very much like the same person she was on stage; calm, dark, melancholic but beautiful. Her laughter was fairly low, not the shrill high-pitched giggle one could so often hear, and her smile looked like she knew a secret no one else did. Adam took her extended hand and shook it quickly, shooting a sideways glance at Ian. Of course he had to tell her, and probably not just her but the whole bloody bar. Surely at least a few people, her included, would connect the dots soon enough. Would connect Ian, the music, and Adam. The last thing he had wanted. Attention.

"I hear you want us to play together?" the girl asked after quick introductions. Her name was Ida, and she was young, so young.  
"I'd like to use your vocals in a couple of my songs, yes. But only that's alright with you," Adam said, already wondering if it was all a huge mistake.    
"Sure." She knocked down the rest of her drink briskly, and nodded.  
"I'd love that. Haven't had anything good to work on for a while, and Ian says you're a very talented musician." "Ahh... Of course he does." This time, Adam managed a proper smile, if only for a moment.  
"Are you free tomorrow night?"

 


	2. A cappella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ida goes to Adam's to work on his music project, and finds the visit is nothing like she expected.

Ida stepped out of Ian's car cautiously, thanking him for the ride and looking at the house in front of her. It looked like it was straight from a bad gothic novel, all gloomy and alone. Even the lonely streetlight was dark; probably the bulb in it had gone since the house in front of her still had lights on. There was nothing else around there, just darkness and chilly air, so she shrugged and walked to the door. _At least I wasn't blindfolded for the drive_ , she thought, both amused and perplexed by Adam's secretiveness. He wouldn't let her come on her own, instead he insisted that Ian drive her there. All just so that he wouldn't have to give out his address? How paranoid. He was a true eccentric, clearly. Not like anyone was really _that_ keen to know where the mysterious musician lived, surely. People had a life to live and all, no one was that focused on him or his identity, no matter how good his music was...

She knocked on the door, and soon after heard footsteps inside the house, coming closer. She saw a light being turned on in the hallway and then the door opened and he was there, smiling like the friendly host he was, eager to have a guest. Bullshit. He wasn't smiling, but at least he didn't look too pissed off to see her there, either. After all, _he_ had invited _her_. He stepped out her way and let her in, greeting her with a nod.  
"Glad you came," Adam said, voice devoid of emotion, and gestured towards the stairs.  
"I've got the instruments and recording gear upstairs."

The wooden stairs creaked under their feet as Adam and Ida made their way up to the second floor. Her fingers stroked the freaky little gargoyle figure at the end of the handrail, and a small chuckle escaped her lips. Adam looked at her over his shoulder, but said nothing.

"I brought my own guitar," Ida said as they reached the top of the stairs, "just in case."  
"That's good," Adam's voice was still nothing more than blankly polite, "although I think you'll mostly  need your vocal chords."  
"Alrighty."

Adam opened the door to what he called his 'music room', and Ida turned her head, her eyes trying their best to take in every single detail of the room. It was full of stuff: guitar cases, a couple of amplifiers, piles of papers with handwritten notes, books, a set of drums, lots and lots of cables...  
"I've come to heaven," she sighed.  
Adam laughed. Not the happy, bubbly laugh most people had, more of a dry huff of air that just happened to come through him in the way that it could be mistaken for laughter. But still, he laughed.  
"Well, I have a bit of a habit of collecting instruments," he said, moving a cardboard box off a chair so he could sit there. His fingers began to adjust the settings of the devices on his recording table, and Ida stood there, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place. He wasn't the most welcoming of hosts, no, but she had no idea how to be a guest in his house, either. She had no idea how to be _anything_ to him, actually. She had no idea who he was. 

"So..." she said quietly, sitting down on the armrest of his sofa. Her fingers wrapped around the sleeves of her cardigan and pulled them to cover her hands, a bad habit that stretched the fabric but felt oddly comforting, too.  
"I assume you've been playing since you were a kid?"  
Adam nodded his head, the black mop of hair hiding his face from her.  
"Yeah, more or less. Feels like an eternity, sometimes."  
Ida laughed, a quick confused chuckle that she soon swallowed, embarrassed. How did he manage to make her feel so out of place? Usually she was fairly confident in her own skin, but now she had no idea what to do or say, how to be.

"Do you mind if I just play you the song first? We can begin working after that," Adam suggested, and she agreed quickly, saying that hearing it would be _just awesome_. And it would give her an excuse to just be quiet and look around her... The room was so full of things, fascinating things.

The first few notes flowed out of his stereos quietly, but after a few beats of the drums the song began to come alive, introducing the melody and the smooth guitar riffs on the background. It sounded complicated, but it was actually quite simple: drums, guitars, the piano. Nothing fancy, just the perfect combination of each ingredient to create a balanced song. She liked it.

"There's no chorus?" she asked after the song had ended. Her foot had begun to tap to the rhythm of the song; it was almost catchy, but followed no formula.  
"I don't write hits for commercial radio channels, I write what I think is good music," Adam replied, turning around in his chair to look at her. All through the song he had stayed focused on other things, fiddling with the buttons in front of him, changing the settings back and forth, but now he was eager to see if she had liked the song.  
"Right..." Ida nodded, mentally highfiving herself for identifying his personality type correctly; he was a total artist, all vision and ideas and zero desire for money or fame. Frankly, it was quite refreshing. And more than a little bit pretentious.  
"Well, anyway, I think it sounded great. What do you want me to do with it?"

At her words, Adam seemed to spring to life, too. He stood up, picking up an acoustic guitar and accompanying his words with demonstrative flicks of his fingers on the strings, letting her hear the melodies and the thoughts he couldn't put into words. He was excited to see she seemed to understand what he wanted, singing along and doing exactly what he had wished for. Each moment brought them closer to the final piece, completing his creative process as her husky, not yet warmed up voice joined his in the song he now played with the guitar.

"Are you ready to record?" he asked after the last note of the guitar had turned into silence.  
"We're in no rush, but I'd like to get it done as soon as possible." In other words, he was inspired by her presence, but dawn was getting closer and he had to get her to leave before that, preferably well before.  
"Yeah, sure, although I can't guarantee it'll be perfect on the first try," Ida said, slightly apologetically.  
"That's alright."

"I'd like to get a bit of a warm up for my voice first, though," she said, the question already between the lines as she didn't quite know how to phrase it. How do you ask your (slightly hostile) host leave the room?  
"Of course, of course," Adam said, standing up hastily, putting the guitar back to its case. He walked to the doorway, then turned to face her.  
"Take your time, I'll go downstairs for a bit."  
"Shouldn't take too long," she assured him, seeing he was clearly anxious about leaving her alone in the room. How strange he was, how... fascinating, and yet intimidating, too.  
"I won't touch anything."  
Adam smiled that emotionless smile again, then disappeared into the hallway. Ida heard his footsteps as he walked downstairs, and she took in a few deep breaths, then began her warm up.

*

_"This is a gift," the woman said, handing him the glass. "A very personal gift."_   
_"What is it?" he asked, looking at the beautifully crafted object. The glass was small, smaller than any he had held before, but otherwise it looked almost like a wine glass, a very old wine glass. The bowl of the glass  was big enough only for a small sip, though, no more than that._   
_"It is your future," she said, with a pleased smile. "Our future."_   
_"It is what you will drink from, from now on. No more savagery. I will provide you with the drink, and we will drink together. Always together. Like this," she said, filling both their glasses from the young girl on the sofa. The wound on her neck was still open, and the blood ran freely from the gash down to the floor, ruining the beautiful Persian carpet. Her eyes were glassy, seeing nothing._   
_"Cheers, my darling," Eve said, handing Adam his glass._

_*_

"All ready?" Adam asked as he entered the room again, brushing his mouth with the back of his hand absentmindedly while Ida nodded.  
"Yup, should be."  
"Let us begin, then." Adam indicated towards the microphone a couple of feet away from her.  
"Let us begin."

It wasn't all that hard, after all. There were no lyrics, he didn't want words. He wanted the listener to have the freedom of interpretation, so instead she just hummed the melodies where he wanted them, adding another instrument to the mixture. Simple, and yet so effective.

"It sounds good!" she said, almost surprised as they listened to the finished song again, this time with her vocals added into it.  
"It does," Adam agreed, nodding to the rhythm of the song.  
"Of course, if this is ever published in any form, I will give you full credit," he added, giving her a nod. Ida nodded, too, although such things had hardly entered her mind yet: she was too focused on listening to the collaboration of their minds, and marvelling at the way it sounded. She could see why he was so popular, why his music was downloaded so much; there was something strangely alluring about it. It was almost bittersweet; like an unhappy love song.

"I should get going, then," she said after they had listened to the song a couple more times, "it's getting late."  
"Yes, it must be past your bedtime now," Adam said, surprising even himself by making a joke. A joke! Must be a first for him in this century.  
"I don't sleep at night," Ida laughed, then picked up her leather jacket from the sofa and pulled it on before they walked back down the stairs and to the door.  
"Me neither," Adam said.  
"Makes two of us, then."  
"Yes. Thank you, for the vocals, Ida. It was a pleasure."  
"It was."  
"Maybe we can work on another project at some point."  
"I'd love that. Goodnight, Adam."  
"Goodnight, Ida."

The door behind Ida closed as soon as she was outside. She walked the small distance down the street to the bus stop, smiling to herself. Who would've guessed broody indie musicians could make her feel so happy? Not Ida herself, definitely...


	3. Pianissimo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another night, another project.

Adam could hardly believe himself. Had he gone mad? Had he lost his mind? Had he finally become old and demented? Why the hell was he back at the bar? He must have gone insane, finally.

In truth, he knew the answer. He wanted to meet her again, he wanted to see the girl and hear her sing. He wanted to become mesmerised again, by her talent. After spending the night with her, he had written more songs, all with her voice in his head. He wanted to record more with her, he had plans. Now he could only hope she would agree to work with him again.

It didn't take Ida long to spot Adam in the crowd after her gig: his tall, skinny figure stood out in any kind of company, and amongst the young, happy people at the bar? Definitely. She walked over to the table he vacated all alone and greeted him, surprised but also happy to see him.   
"Hi there," she said, an uncertain smile on her lips. Had she been right to approach him? He might not be there for her, maybe he was meeting Ian... A quick look around told her Ian wasn't there. That was a first. She turned back to Adam.  
"What brings you here?" she asked, in the most casual manner, sitting down on a chair opposite him and definitely not waiting for Adam to actually _ask_ her to sit down.

Adam smiled, taking her more aback, as this time the smile was more of a genuine one, a happier one.   
"I've been writing more music," he said, leaning closer to her so that he wouldn't have to raise his voice, "and I'd like you to sing for me again."   
"What kind of music?"  
"Different."  
Ida raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly.   
"Yeah, sure, I guess I can do that," she said, smiling. "What will you pay me for it?"

Adam froze, and even though he was wearing the black sunglasses he had had the night they had met, too, she could see his expression become more wary and worried. She laughed and reached her hand to softly tap his arm.   
"Oh come on, don't be so serious, I was only joking! Of course I'll sing for you."

Adam flinched at her touch, but soon his body began to slowly relax, and he laughed, too. The smile on his lips was a little forced, but it was a smile nonetheless.   
"Thank you."  
"You're welcome... I mean, who would say no to an indie legend-in-the-making if he asks something like this?"

*

"Let's try again," Adam muttered, tuning the guitar slightly, then tapping his foot on the floor.  
"One, two, three," he counted, then began to play. Ida hummed along with the melody, waiting for her part. The new songs Adam had written were very different indeed from the one they had recorded earlier. These songs relied more on the acoustic guitar and her voice, there weren't any other instruments at the moment, and the general mood was just somehow happier. Adam had even written lyrics for her this time, and the sheets with the words on them were now in Ida's hand.

Ida moved her body to the rhythm of the music, getting ready. She could never stay still while singing, she always had to move at least a little bit. Perhaps that was why she hadn't enjoyed the choir so much as a child... Her hips moved in small waves, side to side, until her moment came. She took in a deep breath, moved closer to the microphone, and closed her eyes. She had memorised the words, and closing her eyes allowed her to shut out the world and focus only on what she was doing.

That night, it felt as if the whole universe was on her side: her voice flowed just how she wanted it to, singing felt effortless and even the more difficult parts were not difficult at all.   
"That's great," Adam said as they listened through the recording, "let's just do another take and see how it sounds if we change just a couple of things... Is this too high?" He played a couple of notes on the guitar, then looked at Ida, who shook her head.   
"Let's try that, then."

Adam's fingers pressed on the neck of the guitar, finding the right strings and the right places without difficulty; it was all muscle memory for him by now. He closed his eyes, too, focusing on the music and Ida's voice. This had been the right decision: her voice was a perfect match to the melody and the lyrics, it was exactly what he had been looking for.

*

_"Will you sing for me?"_  
"Only if you'll play for me."  
"Of course, milady." His fingers skimmed the instrument he was holding, new and unfamiliar to him, but it didn't take him long to figure it out. She was already singing, a melody he did not recognise. Her voice was pleasantly low, not chiming but simply flowing into his subconscious with its dark, melancholy air. He began to play the instrument she had given him, caressing the precious material, joining in with her melody. A marriage of bodies, of minds, and of melody, all in one.

_*_

"Thank you, Ida, that was... I don't know how I can make this up to you," Adam said, looking up at Ida who stood next to him by the recording table. She wanted to place her hand on his shoulder to emphasize her words, but decided against it - he hadn't seemed to be one for touching.   
"You don't have to," she assured him, "I love working with you. And since you don't make any money with your music, I don't feel like you're trying to use me to make more, either."  
"Of course not."  
"So it's just a collaboration of two artists, free of such common things as money," Ida grinned.   
"If I ever need an excellent musician for something, I'll ask you. Does that calm your conscience?"Adam chuckled.   
"I guess it does."  
Ida smiled briefly at him, then continued.   
"And, of course, maybe being associated with your name will give mine a bit of a lift... You know, get recognised more and so forth," she added hopefully. He was rather well-known, even if he didn't want to be, so maybe she'd get her share of fame, too.   
Adam didn't reply, only nodded, appearing to be deep in thought all of a sudden.   
"So we can continue?" she asked him, eyebrows raised.   
"Yes. Song number two, then."

Dawn was drawing nearer and nearer, but neither Adam nor Ida wanted to stop working until they absolutely had to. They recorded one song, then another, another version of the first one, a third alternative, a third song, then fourth, and, at last, a fifth. By the time the last song was finished, the first light of day wasn't far at all. It made Adam worried, but somehow the music had distracted him.

Ida was sitting on the sofa, eyelids heavy but her smile light and easy when Adam declared it was all done, all perfect. All five songs, finished.   
"Can I get them on CD?" Ida asked, her voice sleepy. Adam nodded.  
"I can put them on one for you tomorrow, if you'd like." Ida nodded, her head leaning to the backrest of the sofa, eyelids fighting to stay up.  
"Thanks."  
"No problem. They're yours, too."

Adam looked at the girl on the sofa, then sighed quietly. This wasn't good. Not good at all. But he had to try and be a decent host, at least, after everything she had done for him and his music.   
"If you want to, you can crash on the sofa," he offered. Ida's head lifted up, and she looked at him with her mouth slightly open, the question already on her lips but not yet out in the open.   
"You sure?"  
"Yes. It's not the most comfortable of places, but it's all I have to offer. Or I can drive you home," he said, reading her body rather than her words to know she wouldn't be going anywhere.   
"Nah, it's okay. Been in worse places," she mumbled, falling into a horizontal position, her head on the one pillow he had on the sofa.   
"Goodnight, Ida," Adam said. He walked to the doorway softly and flicked the light switch, leaving Ida in the darkness. Or whatever darkness there was left at that hour, anyway.   
"Goodnight, Adam," Ida's voice replied, barely audible as she fell into deeper sleep and he walked up the stairs to his bedroom, wondering exactly what he had got himself into.


	4. Accelerando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ida and Adam make a bit of progress with each other and with the music.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."  
Ida's eyes opened at the sound of Adam's voice. She blinked a few times, her brain figuring out where she was, who he was, what had happened. Slowly, it all came back to her. She had visited him, recorded the music, then she had stayed over...  
"But it's dark already!" she said, the first thing that popped into her head as she sat up. He had opened the curtains, and all the light she could see outside was the dim light of the lamp post. How long had she been sleeping?  
"I thought I'd let you sleep, you looked like you really needed it," Adam explained, somewhat apologetically. He was shuffling around the room, arranging his piles of stuff, and wearing just jeans. Tight jeans. And a dressing gown, which he hadn't tied, so it didn't exactly hide his body from her.

" _Shit_ ," Ida hissed, trying to gather her thoughts. He looked really... good, she couldn't deny that. Shit shit shit. She didn't need this first thing in the morning, or evening, or whatever.  
"What is it?" Adam stopped in the middle of the room, dropping the box he'd been carrying, arms at his side. His face was in a frown, and from the sofa Ida had a perfect view of his abs. Shit. "Do you need to be somewhere?"  
"No, I... It's nothing," she said, turning her head away in case her face would give away her emotions. Emotions? No, it was just... lust. It had been too long since her last time, that was all. She took a deep breath, gathering the blanket into her fingers, crunching the soft fabric into her fists as she told herself _no, no not again, never again_.

Wait, there was a blanket? All of a sudden, she realised it hadn't been there when she had fallen asleep. Adam must have brought it there, he must have seen her bundled up in a foetal position, trying to stay warm. Fucking hell.

"I wrote more music last night," Adam called from the kitchen, sounding surprisingly cheerful. He had walked over there after watching Ida stare into nothing long enough, and now Ida could hear the water running, fridge opening, plates clattering. She wondered if he ever slept; why was he always doing everything at night? Didn't he have a job or anything? The thought lingered in her head for a moment, but she was too tired to fully realise the suspicious nature of her musical partner.  
"What's it like?" she asked mechanically, mentally preparing herself for his return. Since when was she a ridiculous, swooning groupie? She wanted to hit her head into the wall. Hard.  
"I could play it for you," Adam said as he returned with a glass of water and a plate full of breakfast for her.  
"English breakfast, eh?" she asked, looking at the plate filled with eggs, bacon, tomatoes, beans, mushrooms... She felt her stomach rumble merely at the sight.  
"Oh, well, I didn't have any toast, or black pudding, so it's nowhere near complete," he replied, handing her the plate. He almost smiled.  
"But I hope you like it."

Ida devoured the breakfast quicker than was perhaps healthy, but the happy smile this put on Adam's lips was worth it. And it tasted good, really good; anything tasted good to a hungry stomach, but her taste buds did register the crispy bacon and tasty tomatoes. She wouldn't have picked him for the cooking type, not by a long shot, but clearly he was full of surprises.

The song he had written was surprising, too. Ida had thought his songs from the day before had been as happy as he could get, but she'd been wrong. Maybe his rock star looks and all that was just a facade, he was clearly a happy little hippie deep inside. The thought of him in a tie-dyed top and denim bell bottoms was almost too much, and she choked on her water. After a couple of minutes of furious coughing, she managed to recover and come up with a lie for him. She wasn't sure he'd appreciate her laughing at him, no matter how happy he suddenly was.

Adam was playing the piano this time, a quiet soft melody. He closed his eyes, his long finger skimming over the keys effortlessly as he picked up the pace and force, and the gentle theme turned into a more passionate concerto. She sighed, feeling the music seep into her veins. She found herself unable to close her eyes, though; watching him was better.

And then,  he began to sing. Not like he had before, not quiet and soft, but really _sing_.  His voice was deeper when he sang, and even more beautiful than the melody he was playing. Ida felt her mouth drop open, but instead of saying a thing she simply stood up, slowly walking over to the piano, closer to the source of the heavenly sound.

She wanted to remember the lyrics, to have them with her always, but each word made her forget the one before. His voice was like liquid, flowing from one word to another, linking them beautifully. It was as if he didn't even need to breathe... She had never been able to sing like that, and probably never would be.

"You should get that recorded," she said after he had finished. Adam still sat on the stool by the piano, fingers resting on the keys. He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, and smiled.  
"I'll think about it."  
"It's brilliant," she said, again wanting to touch his arm, shoulder, anything.  
"Thank you."  
"Although, if I were you, I'd change the middle part to G major, maybe. Would sound more fresh," she said, wondering how he'd take the criticism - most people did nothing but praise his music, after all. Time to burst the bubble, she thought. Adam raised his eyebrows, then returned his eyes to his fingers on the piano keys. Then, he nodded.   
"I'll think about that, too. Thank you for the suggestion, Ida."

She lingered around for a while longer, but soon she ran out of things to say, and even though she enjoyed working with Adam, she did not enjoy the awkward silence when neither of them knew what to do or say.  
"I should get going," she said, pulling on her leather jacket. Adam walked her downstairs, saying goodbye at the door. He thanked her at least five times for recording the songs for him, something she couldn't help grinning at.  
"My pleasure," she said, waving at him before stepping out the door. She heard it being pulled closed, but this time it wasn't as sudden as the first; she was walking on the street by the time she finally heard the heavy thudding sound.

*

Ida had intended to go straight to bed after she got home, but she found herself wide awake and alert, in spite of the darkness outside. Going to bed in that state would only result in restless twisting and turning, so instead, she opened her laptop. A quick googling took her to where she wanted to be, the page Adam shared his music on. She scrolled up and down the page, clicking a randomly chosen song to play on the background as she went about her mission.

After a moment, she found it. She clicked the button that said 'contact',  and another tab popped open. In that, she saw little more than the thing she had been after: his email address.

_marlovian@radio.com_

She opened a new tab, logged on to her email, and copied his address to the bar reserved for it. This was her only means of contacting him, other than walking up to his door, and she had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate that. Also, she wanted to think about each word carefully. But not too carefully, or she would never even write it. She began to type as the words came to her mind, eager to get the email written and sent, before she would get too embarrassed and delete it all.

_Adam,  
hi, it's me, Ida. I didn't know what other way to contact you (we haven't exchanged phone numbers or anything), but there was something I wanted to say. _

_First of all, that song you played. Please upload it online when it's ready, it was so beautiful and touching. I don't know where that came from, but it was better than anything I've heard from you before. You know, like a love song but not sappy and boring, but also sad and emotional and raw. I think raw is the best word. And vulnerable, it felt like you were letting your guard down for a brief moment there. If you ever do that._

_I don't know, I might be talking complete bullshit here, but that's how I felt._

_And, another thing. I've loved working together with you, I really have. I'm so lucky, I've learned so much from you, and in such a short time, too. And it's already got my page a few more clicks than usual, so thanks for that! What I'm trying to say here is that I'd like to see you again, you know, just to hang out maybe? I think we get along quite well, so that might be fun._

_Let me know what you think. If you don't want to do it, that's cool, too._

_See you around,  
Ida_

Ida paused to read through the email, then hit send before she would regret it too much and erase the whole message. A small beep from the computer told her the email was gone, sent, out of her reach. She inhaled deeply, then shuddered with excitement.  And a little bit of fear, too.

 


	5. Con Amore/Dolore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse to the past.

**_England, 1689_ **

"Are you sure about this, my lady?" Adam asked.  
"Of course I am, my lord. I have never been so sure about anything, and I have had more time than you might think. Besides, fifty years of engagement is enough, don't you think?"  
"True..."

The carriage moved unhurriedly through the night, on the bumpy road in the middle of almost nowhere. The two lovers sat inside it, leaning against each other, hand in hand, never more sure. This was the night, this was their true union. It was time.

"Thank you so much, I know this must be very inconvenient timing," she rushed to apologise to the priest as they entered the small countryside church.  
"Anything for you, my lady," the old man replied, grasping her hand in his and giving her a gentle smile.  
"This is him?" he asked then, looking at Adam.  
"Yes," Eve took the hand of her fiancé, kissing it and smiling modestly at the priest. "This is my Adam."  
"Shall we, then?" the priest gestured towards the altar with his hand, and the two vampires moved forwards behind him.

The ceremony was quiet and brief, not to attract attention or to put up a show. No, it was just what it was... A wedding. Adam remembered every detail of it years later, as if it was yesterday... Her hair shining like sunlight in the yellow light of the church, the uncomfortable clothes he had worn just for the occasion, the night after... It was perhaps his favourite wedding, out of all three of them.

**_France, 1793_ **

"I think another place would have been safer," he said, uncertain and afraid. "There is so much happening here, how can we..."  
"Oh, _mon chéri_ , please... You have waited so long for this, as have I. Don't let your fears ruin this, not now."

Her hand squeezed his, softly, gently, as it had so many times before: on their first wedding day, on the night she turned him, every time she felt like he needed it. And every time it worked, every time her touch reassured him just enough. He looked at her, not with a smile but with a look of serious determination, and love.  
"Let us go, then," he said, leading her into the abandoned church. It had been stripped off everything that could be sold, every cross, every statue, every painting. It was all gone, but one dusty, ragged Bible remained. She picked it up into her hands, and flicked through the pages.

"Shall we do it in French?" she asked, smiling as she kept on looking. "Or would English be more appropriate?"  
"French is fine, my love," he said, eyes roaming the destroyed piece of architecture. His heart ached, seeing the beauty that once had been and was no more, but he tried to remind himself of her, of why they were there.

"Ahh, found it!" she whispered excitedly. "Ready, my dear?"  
"I have never been more ready."

She held the Bible in her hands, standing with her back straight, facing him. They looked into each other's eyes, not merely glancing but _conversing_ , and only when she saw what she had been looking for did she begin to read the text. He listened to the language rolling off her tongue, and thought how terribly lucky he must be, to be able to share not only a lifetime but many more with her...

**_Somewhere in Europe, 1868_ **

"My lady, it has been a long time."  
"It has indeed, my lord."  
Adam wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, tasting her, feeling her. It had been years since they had last seen each other, years spent travelling and seeing the world. He had missed her, not only in his thoughts but as an ache in his bones, sore muscles and dizzy head. But now she was there, with him, finally. He had written countless letters, and received as many, with detailed stories of each other's lives, but it was so different now, to actually have her here. He never wanted to let her go.

But the guests were waiting, the friends and family they had, and the two of them had to go. They descended the grand stairs of the mansion, into the big room filled with smiling people. Or not people, not anymore... Beings. Just like them, creatures of the night and darkness, even though right now all he saw was light, his light in her.

That was what he told her, too, in their third wedding ceremony. They had grown tired of strict rules, and following their previous wedding, this time they didn't get a priest, they considered themselves capable of binding their souls together just as well. Instead of the questioning of a member of the church, they had each other and their vows.

"Eve, you are..." he hesitated, taking a breath he didn't need, borrowing himself some time before he spoke again. "You are what I need, what I crave, what I long for. The only woman I have ever loved, the only one who can complete me. You have changed me, my world, you have given me so much. You are the light I never expected to find, and I am so grateful to you. I want to share my life with you, I want to be there for you, I want to support and worship you till the end of time. I love you."  
She smiled at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness as she kissed him, before her own vows.  
"Adam. If I am your light, you must be my darkness. But it is not a bad thing, no; a light can only shine brightly in the dark, after all. You have allowed me to shine, you have given me space and time and love, and I cannot ask for a better partner to walk this earth with. Thank you, a thousand times. I love you."

**_London, the 20th century_ **

That was the day, June 23rd. The anniversary of their third wedding, and the day their fourth wedding was supposed to take place, too. He had waited, he had written letters to her, he had grown thrilled and found himself happy again, even just at the thought of it.

He had travelled there well in time, not wanting to be late, never late for her. He had walked the streets that once were so familiar, he had even found the church they had had their first wedding in. He had seen the change, and yet it felt like home. He had travelled the country up and down, until it was time. He had returned to London, only to find not her, but a letter.  

A letter that would tear his world apart.

_Eve is sick_ , it said. _So sick I'm afraid... Please come as soon as you can._

He had gone. He had found her, lying on a bed in their friend's house, feeble and tired. She had put on a smile for him, taken his hand as always, but there was no strength in her anymore. There was no fire, there was no sunlight... The sun was setting, and they both knew it.

He sat with her until the end, holding her hand and brushing her hair with his hand.

Then he cried, he cried for the first time in almost three hundred years, and felt like it would never stop. She was gone, and, for the first time in his new life, he didn't know where to go, what to do. He was lost.


	6. Scordatura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam replies to Ida's email, but what he says is not what she expects.

Around dusk, Ida heard her phone notify her of a new email, and clicked the app open impatiently. It had been days since she had sent her message to Adam, and she had began to overthink and regret it more and more with each moment that had passed. But now, he had finally replied.

_From: marlovian@radio.com  
To: ida.3690@email.com_

_Hello Ida,  
Thank you for your kind words, and sorry it has taken me a while to get back to you - my computer broke down. Got it fixed now, and after playing it to Ian I also uploaded our new EP online. You can check it out on my page, if you'd like. I've linked your profile to it, too, and I'll get you the CD as soon as possible. Still thinking about that other song, I'm not sure if I'll publish it at all. _

_I'm glad to hear you've enjoyed working with me. You've been very helpful and inspirational, too. I hope it's been mutually beneficial and not me simply robbing your talent to use with my stuff._

_However, this may feel a little bit abrupt, but would it be possible for you to come to my place this evening? There is something we need to discuss. It's rather urgent._

_Adam_

Ida frowned at the message, wondering what Adam's urgent business might be. She typed a reply to him on her phone, simply agreeing to drop by after her shift at work. She was once again pleased with her flexible hours; otherwise she might not have been able to go that evening at all. She packed her work clothes into a bag and stepped out the door, walking the short distance to the 24/7 coffee shop she worked at.

*

"Sorry about the short notice," Adam said as he opened the door for her a few hours later.   
"That's alright. I had work tonight, so I was going to be out anyway. What's the urgent thing?"  
"Ahh. Upstairs, then, please. I'll tell you there."

They walked up the stairs in silence, and Ida wondered what was so pressing, so upsetting to Adam that his happy mood had seemed to disappear altogether. She turned into the only room she had been in so far, the one with the sofa and the instruments, and saw a possible explanation sitting on the sofa.

"Hi there," Ian said, waving at both of them, then gesturing for them to come and sit down as well.   
"Hi, Ian," Ida said as she plonked her body down on the sofa next to him. Adam didn't sit down, but instead paced around the room anxiously.   
"Can anyone tell me what's happened?" Ida asked. "Because right now it looks like someone's killed Adam's mum and you're the happy murderer," she said, turning her head to look at Ian.   
"Oh, never mind Adam, he's always like that," Ian said. "When it comes to these things, anyway. Thing is, people loved your EP. Loooovveeedd."

Ida's lips broke into a smile. This was good news, very good. She hadn't had time to check the website yet, so she hadn't seen the comments people had left, but this news gave her a jolt of excitement. She might even get somewhere with that new recognition, too...  
"That's great!" Ida said, frowning at Adam's worried figure. He was still walking back and forth with a sullen expression on his face. "So what's the problem?"  
"He wants us to _perform_ ," Adam nearly hissed, sounding as if someone had told him to eat his own hand.   
"Yeah, a gig or two at least," Ian shrugged and scratched his head. "I mean, people would love it."  
"I still don't see the problem..?" Ida looked at each of the two men in turn, feeling like she was missing something really obvious.   
"I don't perform. I don't do gigs. Ever," Adam said, finally sitting down and sighing.   
"Oh."  
"Yeah."

Everyone was silent for a while, the only sound being Adam's sighs and the shuffling of Ian's hands as he ruffled his own hair, crossed his arms, scratched his forehead, ruffled his hair again. Ida rolled her eyes at the pair of them and opened her mouth.   
"I'll do it alone, then."

Adam's head snapped up, his eyes fixed on her. She wasn't sure if it was approval or disapproval she saw in them, or both. She didn't really care, either - not now, anyway. Later, then she could care again.   
"Alone?" Ian asked, "but..."  
"Adam doesn't sing, and we can use a couple of my guys I know to play the instruments we need. I can play my guitar. It's all just fine. Don't really need him there, if he's so keen on not appearing on stage."  
"But... Adam..."  
"What about him?" Ida turned her head to look at Ian, and this time it was her turn to look at someone sharply. Ian flinched under her hardened gaze, then shrugged again.   
"Nothing, people just want to see _him_..."  
"Well, doesn't sound like that's going to happen, does it?" Ida asked Adam. She didn't mean to, but with each moment that passed she sounded more and more irritated. Why couldn't Adam just suck it up, just this one time?  
"No."  
"See? Either me or nothing," Ida said, feeling cross with both Adam and Ian now. "Take it or leave it."  
Ian nodded, resigned, and pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans. He dialled a number and walked into the hallway to talk. They could hear his voice, the persuasion and arguments he presented to whoever he was talking to.

"You really don't want to do it?" Ida asked Adam, focusing on keeping her voice calm and kind now.   
"No."  
"Is it the nerves or..? It's not bad, you know, it's actually kind of fun. Depending on the audience, of course, but it can be really good. Plus I've wondered what it would be like to see you live, you know."  
"I know. I've performed enough for a lifetime, believe me," Adam said. Ida raised her eyebrows, wondering when that could've been, but said nothing.   
"I just don't want to do it, that's all. I don't need attention."  
Ida shrugged, still unable to find anything to say. "Good for you?" was an option, but she didn't really want to pick a fight, so she bit her tongue and focused her thoughts on the possible upcoming gig.

"Right, it's all sorted," Ian said as he returned to the room.   
"Three days from now is the first gig, then another one the following night. At the club on Gratiot Avenue. That alright?"  
"Cool," Ida said, nodding her head. "Better get practising, then."

*

The club was crowded with people on the first night, and even more so the second. Even though Adam had said he wouldn't perform, he couldn't resist going to see the gig, anyway... And to see Ida, too. He sat in a corner table at the back of the bar, keeping out of people's way and focusing only on her, her voice and their music.

The first night's gig had gone well, but he had noticed Ida was a bit jittery, probably because of the nerves. He would've gone and said hello to her before it started, but he had no idea what to say after that, what to do or how to be. Instead he simply watched the gig, then waited for her to find him, wondering if she would, if she'd still be mad at him. When she appeared by his side, he bought her a drink and complimented her on her brilliant performance.   
"You did well," he told her, and she nodded, knocking back her drink.   
"I hope so," she said, then smiled, looking slightly more confident.   
"Tomorrow's a new day, anyway," she added, and he agreed, smiling. He stayed with her a moment longer, then went back home. He had thought watching her would inspire him, but when he got home he simply sat on the sofa until dawn, unable to compose or write or play anything. His mind was blank, and he just sat there, listening to the buzz of his own thoughts.

The second night, he knew what to expect. But of course nothing met his expectations. Except perhaps Ida: she was still a very good performer, and much more relaxed than the night before. He listened to her play his songs, heard the slight changes she made, consciously or unintentionally, he didn't know. She changed a note here, or a scale there, or sometimes a couple of words in the lyrics. Those were unnoticeable to anyone but him, of course, but they made him realise just how good a musician she was, too. She made the songs sound like they were all hers, that it was all coming from her instead of someone else. That, and the points she had made about his new composition slowly convinced him that he hadn't been wrong in asking her to play with him. Perhaps he should listen to her more, he clearly hadn't seen her full potential yet...

"She looks delicious, doesn't she?" Adam froze when he heard the all-too familiar voice next to him. He sighed, then turned to face the short, blonde girl with hair like a bird's nest.   
"Ava," he groaned. "What are you doing here?"  
"Thought I'd pay you a visit. It's been so long."  
"Not long enough."  
"Oh come on, I'm just stopping by, not moving in to live with you! It's all alright, you can keep staring at that girl as though you want to eat her up..."  
"I don't stare at her like that," Adam defended himself from his sister-in-law. Or ex-sister-in-law. Whatever.   
"Oh yes you do. I don't blame you, though."

Adam didn't reply. He crossed his arms, and tried his best to ignore Ava. He had never had enough patience to stay in the same room with her for long, so this was probably a personal record by now.

"You like her," she said after a while, sipping something from her flask and grinning at him, teeth stained with red. Ida was just finishing the last song of the set, and Adam thanked the universe for being able to leave soon.   
"She's a friend," Adam said coolly. It was only then, as he heard his own words, that he felt the lie. It felt like a hollow in his chest, burning him from the inside. A _friend_... Ha. He couldn't even tell himself that anymore, he couldn't keep telling himself that he was only interested in her musical abilities. She had woken an interest in him, and it was for much more than her voice.  
"If you say so," Ava muttered. "I bet you want to sink your fangs in her, though, and maybe something else, too..."

Adam shot a glare at Ava, then turned and walked out the club without a word, not to her, not to Ida. He didn't even realise he was driving as he sped through the empty streets; his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Ava and of Ida. He didn't want Ava coming here, not now, not ever. He didn't want her parading into his peaceful little world, reminding him of what once was, how once he could stand her because he had her sister to calm him. How now it was intolerable. He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready for her to come and tell him what he should be thinking, how he should be feeling, what he should be doing.

He wasn't ready to admit that she might be right. That now, after decades of mourning, he might have feelings for someone new. He wasn't ready...


	7. Ad Libitum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ava's teasing, Adam finally plucks up his courage and acts on his feelings, with an outcome he couldn't foresee.

"Ava, go away." Adam tried to close the door, but the girl wouldn't let him. He sighed, and rolled his eyes. Typical.  
"But Adammm," Ava whined, pressing her body between the door and its frame, preventing him from closing it right in front of her. "I've nowhere else to go, and sun is rising soon..."  
Adam sighed.   
"Fine," he mumbled, allowing her to slip in. "But just one night."  
"Thank you! I knew I could trust you!" she squealed, jumping up to hug him. He stayed still, not returning the gesture, until she pulled her arms off him and bounded up the stairs.

*

"I thought you said only one night."  
"Yeah, but... Family reunions are so much fun!"  
Adam rolled his eyes. He should've known Ava would be a pain to get rid of. She didn't seem to notice, however, but walked over to his sofa and sat down promptly, looking at him expectantly.   
"What?" Adam asked, sighing.   
"Why are you so afraid of telling her you like her?" Ava asked, and Adam wondered if he had imagined the uncharacteristic gentleness in her voice.   
"Because I know you do, the way you were pining for her even at the club... Adam, it's been, what, almost eighty years! You _are_ allowed to have someone new by now, you know. No one would judge you, you know, she's pretty."

Adam just stared at her, not knowing what to say.   
"Why do you care?" he finally asked.  
"Oh, I'm just curious," she said casually, fiddling with a guitar pick she'd found next to her on the sofa cushion. "Is it because you think she won't like you back?"  
"Shut up, Ava," Adam muttered, pacing around the room again. But of course she wouldn't. She flipped the guitar pick up in the air with her finger nails, and caught it, then repeated the action, again and again.   
"I'm sure she'd absolutely adore your grumpiness, you know," she teased him, with a grin on her face. Adam stayed silent.   
"Who wouldn't want such a happy, excitable boyfriend..." she said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Always eager to go out, too. I can totally see the attraction... You're so much fun."

Adam sighed, then spoke. Just to shut her up.    
"Fine, you want to know the truth? It's because she's human, and she's young, and she's so fresh and different and I don't know if I can handle all this for another time. I don't know if I can handle... love... because all it brings with it is loss, in the end. I don't know if I can handle losing her, and that would happen because she's human and I'm not and she would age and then die and... I don't know if she even likes me, but that's not really the point, I guess."  
"Awww, that's so sweet!" Adam wanted to stab himself as he watched Ava's reaction. "But I think you just need to suck it up - pun not intended - and make a move, you know, if you want to, because she's going to find someone else and then you're screwed."  
"Yeah, whatever."

Later, when he had given in to Ava's continuous begging for some of his blood supply - he was already running low, and this didn't help, but he would rather have that than listen to her whining - and she had busied herself with a film he had never heard of ("Everyone's talking about it now, where have you been, Adam?"), Adam opened his computer and typed a quick email to Ida. He wrote the whole thing as quickly as he could, trying not to give himself time to hesitate, and once it was done he read the email through once to make sure it made sense, then sent it off and leaned his head into his hands. What had he done?

_Hello Ida,_ the email said,  
 _Ian's just dropped by and said something about an additional gig. I have some ideas for it, and might even get over my fears and perform, too. Can you come over here tomorrow night to discuss it? I'd love to hear your thoughts.  
Adam_

Lies, lies, lies. There was no gig, no Ian anywhere to be seen, and he would definitely not perform even if the rest was true. But he had to get her attention, he had to get her there, so he could... Or _could_ he?

Christ, what have I done? Adam asked himself, shuddering. After a moment, a small beeping sound announced Ida's reply (did _she_ ever sleep?), and he read it eagerly.

_Sure thing, is 11 pm ok? That's when my shift ends, I can come round after that._

Adam typed his reply, saying that 11 pm was perfect, then proceeded to pace around the house until the first light of dawn announced itself and he was forced to go to bed. He tossed and turned for hours, but, finally, sleep caught onto him, and he slept restlessly, dreaming hazy dreams of two women with messy hair, one blonde and one brunette.

*

The doorbell rang sooner than he was ready, despite the fact that it was 11.12 pm and he should have been ready twelve minutes ago. But he could never be ready, not completely prepared, not for something like this.

"Hey," he said, sounding nervous even to his own ears. Ida smiled, bright and happy even though she must have been tired, and stepped inside after he had gestured for her to do so.   
"Let's go upstairs," he said, remembering the mess Ava had left downstairs, the mess he hadn't cleaned up yet. She had finally left, earlier that evening, sounding very pleased with herself after finding out Adam had contacted Ida. Why she was so keen, he had no idea... But then again, he didn't care much, either. Not about Ava's opinion.

He followed Ida to the room they had spent most of their time together in, and sat down on the sofa with her. For a moment, he stayed quiet, and she looked at him expectantly.   
"So, the gig-"  
"Ida, there's-"

They both laughed, then Adam cleared his throat and spoke.   
"There's something I need to tell you, Ida. I guess I should just be done with it, really. I lied. There's no gig."  
Ida looked at him, first with a blank expression, then with a frown.   
"So why did you..?"  
"I wanted you to come here, and I didn't want to sound, I don't know, creepy, so I had to have a reason. But the reason I asked you to come... Well, you said you liked being with me, in that email you sent. I... I think I like being with you, too. And more than that, I like _you_. "  
Ida kept staring at him, as if she had gone temporarily deaf.   
"You mean... You like me, as in...?"  
"As in this," Adam said, and, plucking up all the courage he had left in him, he leaned forwards and pressed his lips to hers, drawing her into a soft kiss.

It was strange, really, for both of them. For her, the kiss was special because it was the first meaningful one (although not her first), the first one she would remember even years and decades later. The first one whose memory she'd cherish. For him, it had simply been so long, since... But now she was there, her lips were against his, she was pressing into him, and he was reborn.

*

He hadn't planned for it to happen, any of it. But after the kiss, she seemed to be on fire, too, he saw in her the kind of burning he loved, and, without a word, they stood up, still kissing, and somehow managed to move to his bedroom. He took his time, feeling as though rushing it would ruin it, and adored every inch of her skin as it was revealed from under her clothes. She was beautiful, truly beautiful, and... warm.

He kissed her lips, then her neck, felt the pulse throbbing for him but resisted, and moved lower, to her collarbones. Her skin felt so smooth under his lips, so smooth and welcoming after such a long time of nothing but hard air and cold, lonely beds. She was so receptive, so sensitive, and quivered at his every touch, and her every breath of air set his skin ablaze for her.

He surrounded himself with her, sinking into her warmth and savouring the feeling of being alive again.


	8. Acciaccatura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

The whole morning after thing had always felt really awkward to Ida, and this was about a hundred times worse. She had loved every moment of her night with Adam, but when she woke up and the clock was ticking well into the afternoon, she had no idea what to do. Should she stay? Should she leave? Wake him up or not?

She decided to stay, at least for a while, and see if he would wake up. If not, she'd go. Maybe it was just one night, maybe he had just wanted sex, maybe she was being foolish in thinking it was something more. She got up from the bed and pulled on her t-shirt and knickers, then wandered into the room she was most familiar with, still thinking about the night before and how he had been everything but broody and sad when he had lain in bed with her...

She fiddled with his guitar for a moment, noticing how much better a classic vintage model could sound, but that didn't seem to be enough to distract her for long. She picked up another instrument, then yet another, hearing the clock tick away the seconds much too slowly. And Adam still wasn't up. Hearing her stomach rumble, and remembering the lovely breakfast he had made for her days before, she decided to go on a quest to find his kitchen - and hopefully some food, too.

The kitchen, when she found it, was a real mess. It wasn't very big, and only had a small fridge in one corner, an even smaller oven in another, and a counter for cooking. A tiny and ancient-looking microwave was perched close to the fridge, so covered with dust that she didn't even notice it at first. The counter was filled with empty bottles, and dust covered the small table and the papers on it, too. Ida sighed, then walked over to the fridge and pulled it open.

It took her a moment to register what she was seeing. Yes, on one shelf there were a couple of eggs, and tomatoes, too, but the rest...

The fridge was filled with blood bags. Ida stared at them, racking her brain for an explanation, for something that would make sense, but nothing came. Why the hell would someone have their fridge filled with blood? She closed the door, but before it swung shut she noticed the pack of straws next to the fridge. And then, her eyes moved more to the left, and she noticed an empty blood bag lying on the counter, too.

With a straw in it. A couple of dried drops of something red were on the counter next to it... Ida shuddered, feeling sick. What the fuck?

She took a step back,  breathing in small shallow huffs. She heard her heart hammering in her chest, and her head ached already from the oncoming stress response. Fucking hell. Ida looked out from the kitchen window, seeing her own face reflected in the glass, against the dusk outside.  
"Fuck," she whispered, then walked out of the kitchen and back upstairs to fetch her clothes and belongings.

Adam was still sleeping soundly when she returned to the bedroom. She looked at him for a moment, wondering what kind of a dark secret he was hiding, if he was some kind of satanistic murderer or just insane - or both. She shuddered, pulled on her jeans and grabbed her bag, making her way back downstairs as quickly as she could.

On her way down, she knocked over a pile of old records he had lying on a table in the hall, but she didn't stop to pick them up. She didn't care anymore. Her whole body was filled with adrenaline, and it was all fight or flight reaction now. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but underneath the shock she also felt something else... She had thought he liked her, that they might have something, but now... Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she ignored it.

She pulled on her leather jacket, and had her hand on the door handle, ready to twist and turn and free her from the strangeness of it all, when she heard a voice behind her.   
"Ida?"

She turned her head, seeing Adam coming down the stairs. He had only pulled on his jeans, and his hair was the mess it became after rubbing into the pillow for hours. In any other moment she would've marvelled at the way his naked torso looked, but not now.   
"Where are you going?" he asked, sounding almost worried. Ha, worried. Yeah, he should be, right? She was going to go and call the police and wash her hands off the whole mess because that shit in his fridge was just...

"Away," she replied, her hand still clutching the door handle. He walked down the remaining stairs that separated them, then gently touched her arm with his hand. She felt a shiver run down her spine, but couldn't tell if it was fear or something else, not even now.  
"Is it because of last night, did we move too fast? I didn't mean for it to happen, trust me..." he said, sounding more worried with each second that passed.   
"No," Ida said bluntly, and a small voice in her head wondered why she hadn't already opened the door and left. She seemed to have frozen right there, paralysed on the spot. Shit. She should've just left when she had the chance...  
"What is it, then?" he asked, coming closer to kiss her cheek. She jerked her head out of his reach.   
"Don't touch me!"  
"Ida, what _is_ it?" Adam asked, sounding so tormented by her sudden change of mind that she wondered if it was genuine or if he was just a very good actor.

She decided she might as well say it. She'd say it, throw it in his face, let him know she knew, let him know she'd call the police or something as soon as she could, let him know he was in trouble now. And then she'd leave, she'd open the door and run. Right.  That's what she'd do, she told herself.

"It's the blood in your fridge, that's what it is!" Ida spat out, yanking the door open. Cool night air greeted her; she hadn't even realised it was getting dark already, she had seemed to have lost track of time completely.   
"What?" Adam followed her still, sounding incredulous. "What are you talking about?"  
Ida rolled her eyes, then turned around to face him.   
"The blood! In your fridge! In the bags! And the empty one on the counter! And the straw! Do you _drink_ it?! That's what it's about! I don't know if you're some kind of crazy serial killer or if you perform some satanic rituals but I should've known earlier, it was so suspicious why you only wanted to see me at night, anyway, bet you were planning to kill me, too-"  
Adam made a move as if to grab her hand, to keep her there, but she pulled out of his reach and began to walk away as quickly as she could. She wanted to run, but her legs felt too shaky.   
"Ida, I can explain!" he called out after her. She didn't turn her head to look at him, but kept walking.  
"Fuck you and your explanations!" she replied, then, as soon as she got behind the corner, out of his sight, and felt strong enough, she broke into a run and just ran, ran, ran, with tears spilling into her eyes.


	9. Lasciare Suonare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations.

Adam watched Ida go with a crushing sensation in his chest. He knew what must have happened while he had been asleep: Ida had seen the kitchen and the mess Ava had left after her, and gotten scared. It was all Ava's fault again; she never cleaned up after herself, and now Ida had seen something she wasn't supposed to see, something she wasn't supposed to know about. At least not this way...

Adam stepped back inside the house and pulled on the first shirt he could find, then walked back out, closing the door after him. Inhaling deeply, he managed to find a hint of Ida's scent in the air still, and he followed it down the street and towards the small forest close to his house. The nights weren't warm anymore, and he hoped he'd be able to find her before she got hurt or lost. All his fault...

She had managed to run quite far, he noticed, in such a short time. He was deeper in the woods now, still following the path but painfully aware of the fact that even with the moonlight shining from the cloudless sky she wouldn't be able to see half as well as he did. He knew it was his fault, he had frightened her and then allowed her to leave; in her shocked state she most likely hadn't been thinking clearly at all and instead of going home she had ran to the unknown. Or perhaps she hadn't wanted to be easy to find - of course, she didn't know about his heightened senses. He prayed to the gods who never answered that she'd be alright.

Finally, after he had walked even deeper into the dark depths of the forest, he heard her. He heard the small sobs, and the sniffling as she cried. It broke his heart, knowing he was the cause to all this, knowing it was all because of him. If only he had stayed away from her... If only he had at least had some self-restraint, for fuck's sake. He should never had got involved with her, he never should've kissed her, nothing. They shouldn't have had more than the music.

He approached her quietly and slowly, not wanting to scare her any more. He could see her now, sitting on a trunk of a fallen tree and sobbing quietly into her hands. He walked over to her, and it wasn't until he sat down next to her that she noticed he was there. She looked at him, flinching slightly further away from him, but the panic and terror were gone from her eyes; it was only sorrow now. He didn't touch her, just sat next to her, waiting for a sign from her. He didn't want to scare her again, never.

After a few minutes, she calmed down, and spoke.   
"There better be a pretty fucking good explanation for this," she whispered hoarsely. He nodded, and, sighing, began to talk. He had tried to think it through as he had followed her, but it still felt strange saying it all out loud.  
"The blood bag wasn't mine," he began, "but the blood in the fridge is. I get it from a local doctor I have a deal with. The empty blood bag was left there by my sister-in-law."  
Ida stayed quiet, but the look in her eyes told him he was thinking exactly what he had expected her to: how could he have a sister-in-law, if he wasn't married?  
"I _was_ married," he continued, "but my wife died decades ago, in the late 1930s..."   
Adam felt a burning in his throat at the thought, but expelled it from his mind. Now was not the time for sadness, he had to stay strong, he had to explain. He had to try and make it right, somehow. He saw Ida's brows furrowing; perhaps she thought he was insane.

"I know what you're thinking, I look too young to have had a wife who died so long ago, it's not possible, I must be deranged." Adam smiled the mirthless smile of a man who hadn't found the strangeness of his life funny for a long time now.   
"But it's not, there's an explanation. It's actually pretty simple, too simple for most people to consider."  
"You're a vampire," Ida said quietly and calmly, taking him completely by surprise.   
"How..?"  
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? Blood, eternal youth... Does your skin sparkle in the sun, too, like in that teen fantasy book? Or what's your thing? Turning into a bat?" Then, she broke into a fit of hysterical laughter.   
"It's so funny," she nearly shrieked through her laughter, tears spilling into her eyes again, "a vampire... Do werewolves exist, too? Man, I want myself a hot shirtless werewolf, I don't think this vampire business is for me... Blood..."

Then, Adam realised she wasn't serious. She was still in the state of shock, and even though she had guessed what he was correctly, she didn't actually mean it at all.. She didn't realise it was all... _true_. The calmness had only been a temporary state as her mind tried to process the shock she had experienced.

Hesitantly, he put an arm around her and held her until her laughter died away. Ida didn't try to break free anymore, she accepted his comforting gesture without a struggle. She even leaned her body more into him, looking for comfort even from the man she should've feared. When she had calmed down, this time hopefully for real, he kissed her hair but didn't speak. He waited for her.

She took her time, taking deep breaths and wiping her eyes until she had ran out of tears to spill. Then she spoke, this time with what was as close to her normal voice as they she could get.   
"So what is it, for real?" she asked him.   
"You said it yourself," he replied with a small, unamused smile, tucking a loose strand of dark hair back behind her ear.  
"I know it sounds crazy, but... It's true. I _am_ a vampire."

Ida giggled, surprising even herself, then looked at Adam. To his surprise, she still didn't looked scared, only curious. And quite puzzled.   
"Seriously?"  
"Seriously."  
"Wow... How come you haven't eaten me yet, then? Or were you planning to?"

Adam chuckled, then shrugged.   
"It's a very long story, I think."  
"We have all night."

With her encouragement, he began to tell her his story. He started with the very beginning, with the 17th century London and the time he met the beautiful and mysterious blonde woman, who would later become his wife.   
"Eve, her name was Eve, and she... She was my everything," he told her quietly.   
"She was much older than me, older and wiser, and together we created a wonderful balance. You see, she was as light as I am dark, she always found joy in life whereas I tend to find just misery..."  
"I don't think that's true," Ida protested.  
"I'm afraid it is... Well, most of the time, anyway. Eve taught me so much, we travelled the world together, and got married... Three times, actually. She died right before our fourth wedding."  
"I'm so sorry," Ida said quietly, wondering how this didn't even feel so weird, after all; Adam didn't seem to be the bloodthirsty creature of the horror films, he was so...human. There was nothing that reminded her of the imagery of the horror classics, no long fangs or sharp claws or a black cape... It seemed like a hallucination, although the information probably hadn't sunk in yet, either, not for real.   
"It's alright," he assured her, "I've grieved enough, I think it's time for me to move on, now..."

He continued narrating his life to her, mentioning some of the historical figures he had met and known ("Keats was my favourite, we were almost like soulmates. Even though I never actually met him, only read his poetry..."), and telling Ida everything he thought to be of importance: his 'rebirth'; how he found music again with Eve; how it was the only thing that had kept him going after her death.

"The world just seemed like such a dull place when she was gone, full of grey and no colours," he said. "And the bloody zombies seemed to be destroying everything they see, still do, and I can barely handle it."  
"Zombies?" Ida asked, alarmed. "There's zombies, too?!"  
Adam shook his head, almost smiling.   
"No... That's how I refer to humans, I'm sorry," he explained. "But you're not like them, you're... You're much more, you're different. You actually _live_."

"But yes, after Eve was gone, I was lost for a long time... But now I think I've found something else to keep me living," he added in a quiet voice.   
"Oh?" Ida asked, at first oblivious to the meaning behind his words.   
"You," he said, looking at her with a smile. "You've brought the light back into my life, with your voice and your talent and... When I heard you sing, it was like the start of yet another life, for me. I would like to share that life with you, Ida. If you allow it, that is. If you allow me to have you, if you allow me to... try and learn to love again, with you."  
"Ooohh." Ida had no idea what to say, how to reply, it had all happened so fast. Too fast, almost, for her, much too fast to comprehend. It had been only yesterday when they had kissed for the first time... She wasn't afraid anymore, though, and so she stood up and took his hand, finding actions easier than words, and began to walk back to his house with him. He had finished his story, and they walked in a comfortable silence until they reached the edge of the forest. There, Ida stopped.

"Did you mean it?" she asked him. Adam didn't need to ask what she was referring to; he knew.   
"Yes, I did," he replied, with a serious tone. Love was no joke for him, it never had been.   
"Well, then... I guess we can try. I think I've dated worse things than vampires, anyway..." she laughed.   
"Then, let us try," he agreed with a smile, and bent down to kiss her.   
"As long as you don't bite me, that is," Ida added as they broke away from the kiss. Adam chuckled softly, feeling  elation creep into every cell of his being.   
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."

 


	10. Nocturne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more night. Thank you everyone for the likes and comments! <3 Hope you've enjoyed Adam and Ida. I most certainly have.

_\- One year later -_

The piano's keys pressed down under the gentle fingertips. The guitar strings drew back and moved forth again, following the wishes of their master; the hand. Two voices joined in a sweet melody, much like the instruments, now finally entirely united.

"Let's play it again," she said, turning to him with eyes that shone with excitement. "One more time?"  
He smiled, happily, and she couldn't help thinking how strange that looked on him, even now.  
"Fine, one more time, my moonlight," he said, nodding.  
"Whenever you're ready..."  
Her fingers returned to the piano keys, but her eyes remained on him.

"Are we ready?" he asked after they had played the song again. She swallowed hard, then nodded, with a quiet resolution.  
"Yes."  
He took her hand and together they walked up the creaky staircase, past the room that used to be the music room and now was their library room, filled with books. They walked past every other room, going to the bed with silky black sheets. His thumb brushed the palm of her hand reassuringly, but she still felt a shiver within her, a shiver she tried her best to hide.

But of course he knew.  
"I know you're afraid, he said as he pulled away to make the preparations (one big plaster; a glass of water; another glass with red liquid in it; a candle he was lighting with a match), "but are you absolutely sure about this?"  
She had known this would happen, known he would ask her a billion times, and in spite of her anxiety, she knew.  
"Yes, I am. After all, we're both the children of the night, aren't we?"

He spoke no more after that, except to give her the instructions. The ritual was simple enough, but she watched with fascination as he drew the curtains closed, asked her to lie down, and brought the candle closer to her. Her white bridal dress was spread all around her on the bed, creating a contrast with the dark sheets. It wasn't a part of the process, but something she had chosen. It had felt appropriate, given the nature of the situation...  
"Alright, on the count of three," he whispered, bringing the candle close to her face.  
"One, two... three."

The candlelight flickered as two mouths blew air into it, then gave in to the stronger force and died away. Darkness swallowed them, and as her sight was taken away from her, she could feel her other senses strengthening: the hearing, the feeling, the tasting.

She heard the rustle of sheets  
as he lay down next to her.  
She tasted his lipson hers as he kissed her.  
She heard his quick drawing of breath.  
She felt the sudden _stinging_ sensation  
on her neck as his fangs pierced her skin,  
then the warm flow of blood along her throat.  
She heard the small sucking noises,  
and felt the lightheadedness.

Then, she felt no more, heard no more, knew no more. All was darkness.

He stayed by her side through it all, waiting patiently. He knew it would take a while, but he was prepared. After a long time alone in the dark, his reward finally came. He heard her sudden gasp, as if she had emerged from a deep dive in the ocean, then felt her fingers wrap around his wrist. He reached his free hand to pick up the glass of water from the bedside table.  
"Drink this," he advised her, placing the glass against her lips. She drank eagerly, then sighed discontentedly. Yes, he knew, water didn't satisfy her thirst anymore. He picked up the other glass. This one, she drank more slowly, relishing every drop. When the glass was empty, he took it from her and put it back on the table, then turned to her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, caressing her cheek. She shrugged, then yawned.  
"Pretty good," she replied, surprised. "I thought it would be worse."  
"No, in the end it's rather simple... It's the fiction writers who make it sound complicated."

She smiled and gave him a kiss, offering him a taste of her new nature.  
"Adam," she said after a while, "I'm still hungry..."  
He chuckled.  
"I know, but too much at once is not going to do you any good, my love. You must get used to your new nutrition slowly. Rushing won't do you any good. And the first time you can be a bit of a savage, but next time I'll teach you the proper way to do it. Your necklace will be a part of it, remember when I told you about the feeding?"  
She sighed against his chest, remembering his tale of symbolism and all that, her fingers fiddling with the silver necklace she wore. It was small and delicate, with a guitar pick pendant, on the back of which he had had both their names carved in beautiful writing. The memory of receiving it made her smile.  
"Fine..."

He caressed her hair with his fingers, feeling his chest swell with love and pride. She was so brave, so strong.  
"Now, sleep, my lady. Sleep, and tomorrow we shall begin your new life."  
She nodded against him.  
"Goodnight, Adam."  
"Goodnight, Ida."


End file.
